Chapter 44 – Neve #2
No, first, the Scepter, Thyra countered, and I was shocked that I could hear her as well as the Shadow Fae through the tree. Somehow the magic in the Drassil was connecting us all. We’ve done what you asked. Given you touch. Now you can answer us. Where is it?
A chuckle rang out that made my skin crawl. He claimed he wouldn’t harm us, but I wasn’t about to mistake this creature born of shadows, a creature that someone had trapped here for what I expected might be a good reason, as anything close to a friend.
Luckily, your questions are linked. Through time and chance and blood, the Scepter cannot be spoken of without telling you why I was put here. And by whom.
I inhaled, heard my sister do the same.
It was none other than your ancestor. Long ago, the Unifier Queen Sassa Falk put me here, the Shadow King said.
Your grandmother, many times over, deceived me and stole my power.
His eyes dropped to the blade sheathed at my side.
You had to have guessed, seeing as that Blade possesses magic born of my flesh.
My lips parted. I’d been using the Shadow King’s magic that was somehow shoved into a blade?
How did she deceive you? Were you not at war for many turns? Trapping an enemy seems like anything but deceit. Thyra replied, eyes narrowed. She stood firmly on guard, as did I.
A great war raged between our peoples, yes. But something more existed between Sassa and I . . .
Behind us, the eyes of others burned holes into my back, but I remained captivated by the Shadow Fae’s face.
What? I asked.
His chin lifted. Your queen was my mate.
You lie! I tried to pull my hand back but found the motion impossible. My hand was stuck to the bark. I don’t want to speak to you any more. Release me.
To what do you protest?
That you were Sassa’s mate, I barked back. She wed Torre Lisika.
And? A marriage between fae is often political. Did you not take such vows to Prince Vale? Before you loved him? Before you learned that you were mated?
We’d not been in love the day we’d wed. Both falling, but not quite there and hence, not able to take the love match vows. The Shadow King read the truth across my face.
Like it or not, your ancestor and I were mated. Both wed to another, but mates, fated in the stars. Neither would forsake our wedding vows—we owed too much to our people who were at war. In truth, we both despised one another as much as our souls yearned to be together.
Suddenly, I saw him more clearly. His clothing appeared fresh, as if he’d just put it on.
A black tunic, pants, and boots. A crown, weighed down with gleaming black opals, perched atop his head.
The king pulled the collar of his tunic aside and where the skin covering his collar bone would be glowed a mark.
Black, not white like mine, but shimmering.
A mate mark, he said. I expect she hatched her plan the moment she saw our marks emerge.
Moons went by, and we met in secret. Sassa convinced me to come here for a tryst, or so I thought.
Even then, even when I despised her and me and us, saying no proved impossible.
He scowled. But a tryst was the last thing on her mind.
She trapped me, but not before extracting some of my power for her use. To use against my people.
Her sword. The fabled blade that was treasured in the Falk line. The one hanging at my side.
So you’ve been here since? Thyra asked.
I have.
My sister scoffed out loud. Well, your kind began a war that stretched across many kingdoms. You’re in there for good reason.
His eyes glowed a vicious black, his first real sign of anger. You would do best to release me.
Thyra laughed. Oh, would we? And why is that?
Above, the veins on the leaves of the tree darkened. A few fell. Just like the tree in Valrun had been before we found the Fr?r Crown. Like the trees all over the land. My skin tightened. This fae was the cause of this. The cause of the blight too?
Stop! I screamed. Please! Stop!
For a price.
More leaves fell. Had they even been there at all? Healthy and alive? Or was this glamour? Panic flared at the realization that reality might not be real at all.
Name it! I said.
I wish to touch the magic of your line.
You want us to . . . open ourselves to you?
Only for a moment.
As I’d appeared conflicted when Thyra wished to touch the tree, now she seemed worried.
You swear not to hurt us? I asked again. And to stop harming this tree?
On the dead gods. On my people. On my blood.
With every new leaf that fell, here and elsewhere, it grew colder out. More fae were dying. More being born with mangled wings or bodies because things were out of flux. If he would not harm us, it seemed worth the risk.
Yes. I answered.
The leaves ceased to fall, and the blackness in their veins lightened. Real? Not real?
Thyra? He asked.
She swallowed. Nodded.
The Shadow King smiled, the effect full of malice and greed, and before I understood I had, in fact, made a dire mistake, shadows swirled. Climbed my legs, my torso.
I managed only another breath before darkness overtook me.